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standards is no less damaging to an impressionable teenager’s psyche. Too many teens have to deal with parents’ constant criticisms about their weight. Practically everything about Eli—his clothes, his interests, his mannerisms, his hair—was under fire. The mother of Wade, a New Hampshire junior, tried to change his sexual orientation. The only openly gay student at his school, Wade experienced only sporadic harassment from classmates in his conservative community. But when the topic came up at home, his mother immediately signed him up for counseling because, Wade said, “she believed I had been sexually abused to make me the ‘way I am.’ At least at school, there is room for me to breathe.”

Imagine what it must be like for teenagers like Wade or Eli, who don’t feel they have room to breathe in their own homes. If you are a parent reading this book, you care about your child. If she is quirky, unusual, or nonconformist, ask yourself whether you are doing everything you can to nurture her unusual interests, style, or skills, or whether instead you are directly or subtly pushing her to hide them.

The same day that Eli told me about the “geeky haircut” conversation, he mentioned that he had set a goal to sell his possessions and take off to travel the world by 2020. Eli’s command of geography was impressive, his hope for adventure wistful, but I could not shake the image of this earnest but jaded boy searching the globe for the unconditionally accepting safe haven he could not find at home. Meanwhile, he couldn’t wait to attend the college he had applied to mostly because it was as far across the country as he could get. I realized then that his mother’s desperate attempts to convince her son to be “normal” resulted in a consequence that, to many parents, would be a far worse fate than having an idiosyncratic child at home: She drove her child away.

Late Winter to Early Spring

Being Excluded Doesn’t Mean That Anything’s Wrong with You

Chapter 8

A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO GROUP PSYCHOLOGY

WHITNEY, NEW YORK | THE POPULAR BITCH

In February, Whitney walked into her new economics class, saw a sea of black, and did a double take. Since eighth grade, she had taken honors and college-level classes with the same students. But Riverland offered only one level of economics. Whitney scanned the room. All of the students were punk, emo, or losers. She checked the room number to make sure she was in the right class, then sat next to punk girls who looked at her strangely. Whitney was wearing her cheerleading warmups and a large bow in her hair because it was a game day.

“Whitney,” said a skanky punk, “you need to leave right now.” Populars categorized the punks as “okay punks” or “skanky punks,” a division based entirely on money. The skanky punks were poor.

Startled, Whitney asked why.

“Because you’re too smart to be in this class and you’ll make us all look stupid.” The other students cracked up.

Whitney laughed nervously. When Chelsea walked in, Whitney dashed across the room to sit next to her, finding a small sense of security in the vicinity of another popular. “Ugh,” Chelsea whispered to Whitney, “here we go again.”

After a brief introduction to the class, the teacher said, “Raise your hand if you have a car.” Almost everyone raised a hand.

“Who pays for your own car?” Whitney and Chelsea put their hands down. Their classmates’ hands were still raised.

“Okay,” the teacher continued, “whose parents pay for their car?” Only Whitney and Chelsea raised their hands.

“Whose parents pay for gas?” Chelsea’s hand lowered.

Whitney was the only student with a hand in the air. Her classmates stared at her and muttered, “Oh my God.” Blushing, Whitney quickly lowered her hand.

“Wow,” one boy shouted, “I wish I was her.” The students laughed.

Later that day, in advertising (another class without preps), the students discussed which magazines to use for a project. When Whitney said she wanted to use American Cheerleader, the other girls in the class gave her dirty looks.

Whitney tried to focus on happier things. She